


Fair Of Face

by thecouchwitch



Category: Raffles - E. W. Hornung
Genre: M/M, school days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 02:30:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5112917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecouchwitch/pseuds/thecouchwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bunny becomes jealous of the relationship he's seen other older boys have with their fags and decides to take the initiative with Raffles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fair Of Face

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to my friend Loretta for being my beta. By the way, in the Victorian era, the age of consent was 13 for boys.

One warm night during my schoolboy days I lay on the couch in Raffles' study, with my head resting in his lap as he sat up and read from an assigned novel. It was not an unusual scene, Raffles was fond of me and claimed he enjoyed stroking my hair. Supposedly it calmed him in the same way stroking a pet would. 

Though it was not a common action between fags and fagmasters (at least to my knowledge), I enjoyed the experience as both the sensation of having my hair brushed and the attention of my Raffles brought me such joy, pleasure and comfort that I could spend hours in that position if time permitted and often I would find myself falling asleep, but I was not falling asleep that particular night for I was busy mulling over the events of that day in my head. 

On the way back from classes for the day, I had been in a hurry to use the lavatory and in a moment of devilish daring I cut through a section of the school grounds that were off limits to students unless accompanied by a teacher. Whilst taking my shortcut, to my shock and embarrassment I stumbled across two boys in a passionate embrace, who I will not name here as I was not familiar with them myself beyond knowing that the elder of the two was a classmate of Raffles, and the younger was the elder boy's own fag. They did not notice me, and I was fortunate enough to flee before they could.

I was not unfamiliar with such displays; it was a school of young boys living in close quarters after all, and although inappropriate experiences such as those were against the school rules it was quite the open secret that many if not most of the students would experiment and explore one another out of curiosity and frustration. I have walked in on my own dormmates doing such things with one another, and I'd heard others speak of boys who actually attempted to have relationships with each other as if they were courting! I brought up the topic to Raffles, who had said to always feel free to come to him if I ever had problems or questions.

“Don't worry Bunny,” he said flippantly, “just let them be if they're happy enough. They usually grow out of it before long anyway.”

The last sentence he had said with bitterness not so well hidden that I could not hear it, but he clearly did not want to elaborate so I did not press the matter. I put it out of my mind, but as time went on I found myself thinking about it more and more. I found myself staring at the other boys when they changed, or wondering what it was like to kiss another boy and be touched by one in an intimate manner. I would grow out of this curiosity, I told myself, I would meet some young ladies when I was older and no longer isolated and my thoughts would be consumed by them instead, but at that age I found girls to be rather boring in the physical regard. Though I could appreciate when one was pretty, I was not excited to be around them in the same way I was with other males.

When I stumbled upon the sixth former and his fag in the out of bounds area that day, I took the long way to the lavatory, relieved myself, then hurried to meet Raffles in his study like I usually did. As I laid in his lap, staring up at his handsome face while he played with my fringe, the thought struck me that he had never embraced me the way that his fellow sixth former had embraced his fag. 

“Do you like me, Raffles?” I wondered out loud. 

Raffles glanced down at me quizzically. “What kind of question is that, dear rabbit?”

“A silly one.” I answered, as of course he liked me, you would not call someone your “dear” if they were not dear to you, unless they were my great Aunt and Uncle, whose legendary public spats made family get-togethers rather awkward. “I suppose what I should be asking is if you find me pleasing to look at.”

This made Raffles put his book down. “Of course you are, Bunny. You're as fresh and fair of face as a fine spring morning, if the seasons had faces.”

He stroked my cheek as if to confirm its freshness with a look on his face as warm and tender as I had ever seen on him. A sudden wash of great emotion came over me, of adoration for my Raffles and of my desire to be close to him, so very quickly I sat up, pulled myself fully into his lap and kissed him. I was not an experienced boy, all my knowledge of kissing came from descriptions in romance novels and moments when I’d seen my parents do it at home, but I desperately wanted to do it with Raffles, not only for my own sake but also to show him that I loved him. 

I had not pressed my lips against his for more than a second when he placed his hands on my shoulders and pushed me away, icy blue eyes widened. I felt panic surge through my veins and stuttered out an apology for my lack of skill.

“What? No, Bunny, I want you to tell me what you are doing.” He sat up straighter and moved me from his lap. The rejection inherent in the act made my heart sink and at that moment I would have liked a portal to hell to open open and swallow me whole.

“You said I was fair of face,” I blurted out in way of answer., the insecurities I had kept buried in my mind for some time finally escaping out of my mouth, “If you find me attractive then why haven't you initiated anything with me like others do with their fags?”

I watched as his expression subtly shifted from one of confusion to understanding. “Bunny, I'm not going to abuse you like that.”

“But you like me!” I could feel my eyes start to water, and I am very proud of the fact that I was able to hold them back as at that age I was rather prone to tears when things got emotional. 

“You are thirteen.”

“I am of legal age.”

“I am another boy, it would be illegal no matter how old you were.”

“All our classmates are doing it!”

“I'm not talking about our classmates, I'm talking about you.” Raffles was using his stern voice now, I rarely heard it. It was not a harsh or criticising voice, and it was no louder than his regular speaking voice, but still I cringed and turned away. Raffles must have felt guilty for upsetting me, for he put a gentle hand on my shoulder and when he next spoke he used that soft fraternal tone that I so loved. “Bunny, please understand that I adore you, but I know... How do I say this... I don't claim to know you better than you know yourself, but you are prone to acting without thinking, and you are especially prone to doing things that would please other people rather than please yourself. Regardless of legality and age of consent, and even if you feel you are ready for intimate encounters, I cannot be certain. I will not take advantage of you.”

When I was slightly older I came to be glad of Raffles' choice though my love for him was all-encompassing and I felt the desire that any healthy young boy feels for the touch of another, but at that tender age I was immature and prone to misunderstanding the motivations of my elders. I took his words as cruel rejection, as mockery of my age and inexperience. To this day I still feel shame upon remembering how I acted towards him in the following days and had he been of a different character I would have been surprised that he did not discipline me. But, as would prove to be a trend in my adult life, I could not stay angry with my Raffles for long. I went back to him with my tail between my legs and an apology on my lips, and was overjoyed to find that he had nothing to give in return but kind words and a tender embrace.


End file.
